Dewy, Malleable Leaf
by littlequeenofthestage
Summary: Leia's a leaf-collecting gravedigger, and Han's got shadows on his face. (A little post-Endor superfluff fic I had in storage.)


**Dewy, Malleable Leaf**

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 _Leia's a leaf-collecting gravedigger, and Han's got shadows on his face. (A little post-Endor fluff fic I had in storage.)_

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The lights were out for the first time in days, and the forest was once again a dim, hazy heaven — filled with a midnight fog, and stars hidden somewhere beneath. She hadn't seen stars since the night of the victory, and she wasn't sure she was ready to see them again. She wasn't ready to think about the galaxy, or anything beyond these trees. She didn't want to acknowledge the real world.

Endor was nicer the longer she stayed.

She'd heard talk about plans to leave, or to send out more teams to investigate the Empire's reaction to the Rebellion's devastating victory. Her name had come up, but she had yet to be officially appointed. She had never felt so much dread in her life; and it was strange, how much she _didn't_ want to aid the Alliance right now. Perhaps it made her a terrible person, to emotionally abandon her father's cause — _her_ cause, now — but she just didn't have the energy anymore. All she felt like doing was to spend her days cleaning up war debris and wrapping up dead bodies.

It seemed morbid, of course, to be put on body duty. When she'd first been assigned the task of finding corpses, identifying them, and transporting them to the burial site, she had wanted to trade work with someone else. But she had grown comfortable with it. The process was cathartic, in a strange and probably sick way. It was a sort of closure to the things that had happened here — and it made her think of her family. The people she loved had never received a proper burial, so she took special care to honor the memory of the men and women she transported. Somehow, it helped.

She didn't really talk about it, though. Han had made one too many dark jokes about the job, and Luke — _Luke_ — had given her so many lectures about closure that she could hardly have an extensive conversation with him as of late. He was still bothered by the fact that she hadn't observed Vader's funeral pyre. She wouldn't apologize for it, and it seemed that _that_ bothered him even more. They were keeping out of each other's way right now.

Well, she was keeping out of everyone's way right now.

The council had originally excused her from heavy physical work, to devote her time to their political agenda. But every day, she would voluntarily throw herself into every strenuous activity in sight as a means of avoiding that agenda. She knew that, eventually, she would want to jump back in as things heated up — but for now, she stuck to the simpler things.

All the heavy lifting and intense hiking would leave her sore and exhausted by the end of the day, so that as soon as she would return to her hut, she would fall into bed and knock out for the night. She was told that Han checked on her every night before he retired, but they hadn't discussed this rumor yet.

She imagined this was the reason he had found her tonight.

She hadn't noticed, at first, as he approached from the main bridges, away from the firelight of the city. It was late enough now that she could only make out a few moving bodies on the bridges if she squinted; but by the time she'd seen him coming, she could make out the shadows on his face. He'd worn this expression like a favorite coat recently. She didn't know why he seemed so troubled, and only when he looked at her.

 _He must worry over my morbidity,_ she thought.

As he came closer, she turned her head away, focusing instead on the tree leaves hanging below the bridge, down over the distant ground. They were beautiful green leaves — dewy, and malleable. There was one in her pocket right now.

"Tired?"

She kept her eyes low, drawing in a cold breath, and fiddled with the rope of the bridge. "I thought I'd enjoy the peace and quiet, now that things are settling down."

He hummed in agreement — that low tone that made her very aware of her own heartbeat — and came closer to her side. His footsteps caused the bridge to shudder slightly beneath her feet, and his taller figure took the abrasive wind from her. She didn't have to look to expect the arms to slip around her, and the chest to brace her back, and the chin to land somewhere in her loose hair. She knew all his moves by now.

"'s not what I was asking," he said as his arms came to hang at her midriff, while his lips wandered along the back of her head. His feet found their place on either side of hers. His intentions were clear to her; he'd been waiting to bring her back to his hut for over a week now. But he didn't seem to be pursuing her out of lust. He'd said it once or twice already: he missed her.

She missed him, too.

So she rested back against him as he planted little kisses down to her cheekbone, enjoying his presence in silence. As much as her thoughts begged to be spoken, she waited, and allowed herself a moment to appreciate just what she'd been missing.

His path of affection led down past her ear, and before he could traverse the full plane of her neck, she turned her head to look back, and up at him. His head withdrew slightly, eyes opening, and there, it appeared again — the shadows. She frowned.

"I wish you wouldn't look at me like that," she said bluntly, quietly so as not to disturb anyone sleeping nearby. When she'd pointed them out, the shadows retreated, the cowards, leaving him only confused. She averted her eyes.

"Like how?" he asked, his tone more curious than upset, to her relief. His fingers traced little tickling lines around her ribs — some new little dance they were trying out. He seemed to have become more affectionate since she'd been sleeping in her own bed. It cast an entirely different color on him.

She swallowed and replied, "You keep looking at me as though I'm something to be sad about." She glanced back at him, waiting for his reaction, and added, "Is it something I've said?"

He shook his head slowly, the one to avert his eyes this time. "I didn't think I was. Sorry."

She frowned, and turned around in his arms, to face him directly. "Don't apologize. Just talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you."

Han's eyebrows raised, and he looked over at something else for a moment, in thought. "Honestly, I've been wondering what's going on with _you_. You've been trying so hard to get rid of me lately, but I figured it was this thing with… uh, your- V- Anakin Skywalker."

This surprised her, that he had willingly broached this topic when only a couple of weeks ago, he'd been so nervous to bring it up. She'd told him everything, of course, about Darth Vader and her true parentage — feeling as though she owed some sort of follow-up to her announcement that Luke was her brother. And she'd promptly fallen apart before his very eyes. Although he'd been very supportive during those first few days, she could tell that the whole thing made him very uncomfortable. Seeing her cry had always made him _very uncomfortable_.

"It's not that," she assured him, taking the edge of his shirt in her hands as some sort of security. She stared at his chest as she spoke, nerves lingering in her throat with every word. "And I'm sorry for how distant I've been. I've just… thought, recently. I've thought a lot." She looked up into his eyes now.

He nodded in some sort of understanding, but she could see clearly as the shadows crept in at the corners of his eyes, furrowing his brow and causing his eyes to fall down from hers. He was worried. She'd been worried about him for so long, and now, it was his turn.

"Hey," she whispered, attracting his attention again. She stretched up to kiss his lips, slowly, as if it would reassure him that he wasn't losing her. She stayed there for a moment, and when she drew back, she didn't go too far. She put on a small smile. "I've been thinking about you, you know."

He raised an eyebrow, and replied lowly, "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm." She tied her arms around his waist loosely and smiled when her brought her in closer. "I've been thinking about the future, and… how much I love you," she went on hesitantly.

The smallest of smiles turned up on the edges of his mouth, and he leaned down for another kiss. He whispered, "I love you, too."

But that hadn't been her point, so she went on before he could buy himself another kiss. "And you know, there was something I promised myself that I'd do, if we came out of this battle alive. I was actually planning to talk to you about this weeks ago, but I…"

She stopped to breathe, feeling her nerves come creeping up again. Han nodded encouragingly, waiting for her to continue. She decided to just start from the beginning.

"When Alderaan was lost," she began, — and she thought this was the first time she'd been able to make that statement without a sharp twist of pain in her chest — "I had decided from then on to try to… to protect myself from loss. I suppose that's why I waited so long to fall in love with you," she added with a smile.

He began to trace the little lines again, on her back, and she knew she was safe to go on.

"And then when I lost you…"

That wound was still fresh. The twist of pain took a moment to subside.

She cleared her throat. "When I lost you, I was sure that I'd been foolish, and that I always should have listened to myself in the first place. Even after we'd found you again, I was frightened, still, because I knew that I'd never be able… To face that pain again would be too difficult."

His supportive and encouraging expression had fallen, and now, he studied her with full-blown shadows. They hadn't talked much about his time in Jabba's custody. She didn't want him to know how much he'd hurt her when they'd taken him away.

"And you'd think that now, as I'm wrapping up these bodies of all these broken families, and husbands and wives and children, that I'd be further pushed to the same conclusion," she said, and withdrew her arms, hands slipping into her pockets. "But I've realized here that I — I'm fortunate enough to have a brother, and to have a man I love — and I need to appreciate that. Because there are people who have to live without the people they love. They have no choice, but I do."

She removed the little leaf from her pocket and cleared her throat.

"So Han," she said, her voice shaking a bit, but her eyes smiling. She held her hand in front of him, and opened it up in front of him, showing the little dewy, malleable leaf which she had braided into a little ring. She stared into his eyes as she concluded, "Marry me."

Evidently, he had not expected this in the slightest. He blinked at her like a child, and down at the makeshift ring, and up at her again, confusion written out in his eyes. He swallowed, and stuttered, "What?"

"I wanted to know now, before we leave and things get hectic again," she explained. She picked up the little ring, displaying it properly, and said again, just as simply as the first time, "Marry me."

Still, he was in shock, and swallowed. "Sure," he eventually said, looking blankly at the ring. Then he met her eyes again, and the realization seemed to hit him. "Yes. Hells, yes."

She broke into a grin. "Really?"

"Yeah!" he said too loudly for the hour, and pulled her into a sudden and clumsy kiss. Just as their lips were getting their act together, he withdrew, though, and beamed at her. "Wow! Let's- let's see," he said, taking the ring from her. He cleared his throat.

His face wast stuck in a ridiculous grin as he knelt down on the bridge. He took her hand in his gently, but excitedly, and nodded down toward the ring before he placed it on her finger. It was a little loose, and one of the strands of the braid had come out, but it meant everything.

"Yeah," he breathed, admiring her hand for a moment. He grabbed the bridge rope and rose to his feet again, meeting her in very close proximity. Taking her hands in his, he added, "I think this'll be good. Yeah."

Her blush grew furiously at the way he looked at her, to the point where she could no longer control it. "I think so, too."

But she didn't think so. She'd spent the whole week preparing this in a state of "thinking." She knew that this would be good. She was absolutely certain.

She leaned forward to capture a kiss from his lips, lingering in relief as she reveled in the fact that he'd said "yes." She wasn't especially surprised, but she was insanely happy to think that they were going to be _married_. She'd never planned to be married; in fact, with the way everyone had been pushing it onto her shoulders, she'd decided against it long ago. But this was different. This was nice.

So she just sighed, falling against his chest, and smiled stupidly.

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 **Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.**

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 _ **Thanks for reading :) I'd really appreciate your comments!**_


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